


Music Has Charms To Soothe The Savage Beast

by ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13204464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon/pseuds/ididntdoit_blameitonthedragon
Summary: Zoro can stop fighting now. All his enemies are slain. She sings him to sleep. She cannot bear his pain. She sings him to sleep and remains there to watch over him.





	Music Has Charms To Soothe The Savage Beast

She sings him to sleep.  
She cannot bear his pain.

She sings him to sleep and remains there to watch over him.

The man is drowning in blood.

It isn't his own. It is the blood of enemies he has slayed.  
Those that have raised sword or spear, gun or fist against his Captain. Against his Cook, his Sharpshooter. His Archaeologist, his Navigator, his Musician, his Shipwright.  
His Nakama.

He growls like a wild animal, his swords bared as his fangs, slashing and hacking, slicing down anyone who dares stand in his way. He slaughters them all. Ship after ship. Horde after horde of marine scum that want nothing more than his nakama's heads.

And he will not let them.  
They are his Nakama. His to love, to hate. To fight against, to fight beside.  
To defend when they are too weak, to support when they are tired. To laugh with, to cry with. To hold their hands, to pull them through.

His Nakama.

And no one will take that away from him.  
But his enemy is destroyed now.

Zoro can lay down his swords. He can wipe clean their blade, praise their strength and bless them for keeping him safe as he defends those most precious to him. He will do anything for them.  
He will not be useless. He will not lose them. Not like he has lost her. He has become strong enough to defend them. He isn't weak, like he used to be.  
When he could not save Kuina.

Now he can save all of them.  
Luffy. Sanji. Chopper. Usopp. Robin. Nami. Brook. Franky.  
And anyone else. Anyone who needed saving. Anyone who needs strength to stand or the will to fight.

Zoro will fight for them. He will raise his sword and smite those he needs to.  
Marines. Bandits. Pirates. Captains. Thieves. Thugs. Admirals. Fish-men. Gods. Demons. Beasts.

"Zoro?"

The voice is like silk on a knife blade.  
Sakura blades dancing in a storm.

Zoro stops.  
He stands, calmly, his eyes closing as he listens to the melody that washes over him. He wraps itself around his body like rain, washing away the blood and the sins. His eyes, no longer narrow and sharp, turn to the girl that calls his name. He drops his fangs, he sheaths his claws.

She smiles. He steps closer, the growl in his throat mistaken as a purr as he pushes his cheek into her palm.

"It's enough now," she says.

She smiles again, a hand ruffling the blood-stained hair. She wipes the blood from his face, the tears from his eyes.

"I'm tired."  
"I know," she lulls and she means it.

She means every word as she talks to him, whispering, pulling him to lay beside her. He curls up, cat-like, his body wrapping around hers. Protectively. Caringly.

"You're hurt," she says.

Because it is true.  
He is bleeding. No more than what he is used to. He doesn't even notice.  
Not until she said so, of course, but even then, the pain is vague enough that he ignores it.  
Or, it is too great that his body numbs it for him.

Either way, he cannot feel. Not the pain or the sorrow in his heart as she strokes his head as they begin to sink. He feels grass against his skin, the summer breeze against his cheek. Firework's light the night sky as sunset ends and twilight begins.  
The caress of her hand, the silk of her Yukata.

But it is not so.

It is the hard touch of wood like sandpaper that begins to burn after the destruction ends. The fireworks begin again as gunpowder kegs are lit by the embers of burning oak wood.

One ship sinks first.  
Black flags raised, fading to the song of a lonely lullaby of a violin singing a mournful song. A new song. Of familiar faces and sweet reunions. Of bitter farewells and new beginnings. Promises to see each other again.  
And the ship sinks beneath the waves.

The first.

The second sinks just as fast and just as slow.  
Her holds full of water, her sails torn, but majestically and artistically so. Her metal is worn, her energy drained. She cannot keep herself above the waves.

The ocean is heavy and is dragging her down. But resilient and stubborn, she waits until the first of the stars begin to shine before she sinks, singing a goodbye in harmony to the first that lays at rest at on the sea bed.  
The second falls to join her friend.

The third is silent. She rocks gracefully, nurtured by the waves, her bow facing the serenity of the moon that appears.

Zoro can see. She is smiling. Her eyes, not yet glazed, her smile not yet frozen upon her porcelain skin. Her aged wood is no longer rough instead perfectly sculptured. Like a marble statue, preserved peacefully.

"She's beautiful," the girl says.  
It is true.

"It is true," he says, watching her close her eyes as she too sinks beneath the waves. He turns to look at the stars himself. Three bright stars shine back. They are smiling.

"Zoro?"

"Yes?"

He turns to her. He smiles.  
But she is crying.

"Does it hurt?"

But he doesn't hear her. He catches sight of another ship.  
It is sailing. Proudly, strongly, is still sailing. He sees it, from the hill. From where he lay beneath the sakura tree.

Illuminated by the three stars and there, a fourth appears, as the dark of the sea rises up and claims the fourth ship. It is smaller than the three before, but it does not put up a struggle as she too, sails gracefully beneath the waves. She has no sails. No wheel to steer her, yet she rests alongside her friends.

With each ship that falls, another star appears.

Zoro notices this as he stares up, wondering why. Had the world ever seemed so beautiful before, he wonders. Silently.

"Zoro?"

"Yes?"

He turns to her again. He has almost forgotten she is there. She smiled, tears in her eyes, looking around her.  
They are no longer under the sakura tree, but on the deck of a ship.  
With bright red flags and smooth Adam Wood that has seen plenty of storms and calm swells. She is broken too. Her stern, her bow, her hull. She is taking on water. But still, she is sailing. Zoro looks closer. He can see care given to this vessel. Patched up holes, supports where she has sustained injuries.

"Someone loved her dearly," she says.

"We do," Zoro replies.

Of course he does.  
How can he not? He loves all of them.  
Even still, when they have sunk beneath the waves, their klabautermann souls lighting up the sky as stars.

Zoro stands at the helm. He feels different. Lighter, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.  
One that he didn't know that he had.

She stands beside him, her hand holding his.

"Zoro?"  
"Yes?"

He turns to her. He smiles.  
But she is crying.

"Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Dying."

Zoro stops. He looks to her, to her crying eyes, her ghostly pale face.

Then he looks up. At the eight beautiful stars that light the twilight sky.

"No," he says.

He understands.  
The lightness.  
The darkness.

The softness against his skin.

"No," he reassures her. "It doesn't hurt."

And he lays down, on the grass deck. The tree overhead, the silk blades of grass under him as he lays on his back, his hands folding behind his head. His fingers entwine and his head nestles in that perfect place. He feels grass against his skin, the summer breeze against his cheek.  
Firework's light the night sky as twilight continues. The caress of her hand, the silk of her Yukata.

And her voice.

As gentle as a violin quartet, as soft as tangerine leaves.  
As gentle as cotton candy, as smooth as flowing cola.

She sings him to sleep.

She cannot bear his pain.

She sings.

Precise, like the liar.  
True, like the statue.

She sings.

Interchangeable, like he always is, remembered, with the ghostly smell of cigarettes.

She sings.

And warm. And friendly.  
Like Luffy.

Who stands before him, guiding him beneath the rolling waves.

"Come," he calls.  
"Our adventure does not end here."

She sings them all to sleep.

She cannot bear their pain.

She sings them all to sleep and remains there to watch over them.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay So I love this one, not as much as The Colour Of Emotion, but still.   
> I'm really hoping that you guys were able to realise that this is a Death Fiction and that the ships and stars represent the Strawhats.
> 
> Also it's Merry talking to Zoro and not Kuina to all of you who thought it was her.   
> But then again, it could be either.


End file.
